[ There is that ridiculous naivete John has come to expect from Dresden. Dresden's morality comes from old movies and fantasy novels, not anything resembling the real world. John, though, has been at this for a while. He knows that hate is more complicated than that. His willful blindness of Helen Beckitt shows that well enough.
Dresden is a handful when drunk, and John isn't too steady himself. This would be much easier if-- no, no, on second thought, no. None of this would be happening without copious amounts of mead. John wouldn't let the wizard come this close. He would not put his hands on Dresden's hip, his shoulder, holding him as he sways. He sure as hell would pull just slightly, hoping Dresden would sway into him more, already addicted to that prickly static feeling pouring out of him. ]
Believe me, you don't. It doesn't have to come from hate. [ He whispers, because this isn't the sort of thing you say out loud. This is especially not what you say to a man practically in your lap whose death you have planned out to the bullet. ] I could do it. [ His hand alights up, curls so gently against Dresden's skin, where his neck meets collarbone. ] I like to think you could too. On the day I stop being your lesser evil.
[ Because if anyone has earned the right, it's you. ]
[ John cannot help the smile that takes over his face, and he ducks his head down, chuckling into Harry's sternum. ] Look at us. How goddamn morbid we've become.
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timeasmymeasure
i can't get over him saying this considering how he kills Susan ABLOO BLOO BLOO /TEARS
Date: 2012-11-01 05:56 am (UTC)Dresden is a handful when drunk, and John isn't too steady himself. This would be much easier if-- no, no, on second thought, no. None of this would be happening without copious amounts of mead. John wouldn't let the wizard come this close. He would not put his hands on Dresden's hip, his shoulder, holding him as he sways. He sure as hell would pull just slightly, hoping Dresden would sway into him more, already addicted to that prickly static feeling pouring out of him. ]
Believe me, you don't. It doesn't have to come from hate. [ He whispers, because this isn't the sort of thing you say out loud. This is especially not what you say to a man practically in your lap whose death you have planned out to the bullet. ] I could do it. [ His hand alights up, curls so gently against Dresden's skin, where his neck meets collarbone. ] I like to think you could too. On the day I stop being your lesser evil.
[ Because if anyone has earned the right, it's you. ]
[ John cannot help the smile that takes over his face, and he ducks his head down, chuckling into Harry's sternum. ] Look at us. How goddamn morbid we've become.